


Two Truths and a Lie

by PoisonWrites



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 08:52:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12745044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonWrites/pseuds/PoisonWrites
Summary: X-Files AU. Shane Madej is fresh out of medical school and looking for his big break. Who better to set him on his way than Ryan Bergara, the FBI's most unwanted?





	Two Truths and a Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo. This happened one night. Who better to star in an X-Files AU than these two? If you haven't watched the series, don't worry. I start from the very beginning with world building, so you don't need any prior knowledge. A warning for canon-typical violence. In this chapter there is a semi-graphic description of cattle mutilation. 
> 
> Also, I intend to make this slow burn, but we'll see how long I last.
> 
> Okay! Enjoy!

The bumps of the road rattled him in his seat as Shane looked out the window, watching the thick forestation pass as the radio played in the background. Beside him, his new partner hummed along to the music, tapping his fingers slightly out of synch with the rhythm as a sign that read “Welcome to Wyoming” passed. Shane groaned and slipped farther down into his seat.

This wasn’t what he expected when he applied to the FBI, bright eyed and bushy-tailed right out of medical school. He had gone into the job interview smiling like some kind of weird not-Shane robot, like some sort of people pleaser.

“Well, Dr. Madej,” said the surly man across from him, stubbing out his cigarette on the desk, “this if quite the impressive resume you have here. Graduate of UC Berkley Medial School, specialized in forensics, no doubt?”

“Ah,” Shane coughed, his tight smile faltering, “I did my residency in internal medicine, actually…As you know, the FBI was the one that sought me out during my time at UC Berkley. I felt as though the FBI offered something that a hospital might not. Something…” he shrugged, “different.”

“Certainly.” The man nodded, flicking briefly through Shane’s remaining resume pages and then setting them down in a flourish. “Here at the FBI, I guarantee you will have every opportunity to distinguish yourself outside of a hospital. Tell me, son, you know much about the FBI beyond what you were told in the recruitment?”

Shane hesitated and then shook his head. “Not much beyond what the public knows. You seem to be running a very tight operation here.”

The man smiled and chuckled at this, looking past Shane, “You’re right about that. Which is exactly why I think I have the perfect assignment for you. Here at the FBI, well, you could call us a jack of all trades. We work in a lot of fields, some a bit more…up and coming that others.”

Boy, he really hadn’t been lying. An hour more of fake smiling and a night of restless sleeping, and Shane was being introduced to his one and only partner in the department. A promise of moving up in the ranks after a year or so didn’t seem nearly as enticing as it had the day before, and Shane almost dropped his box of office supplies and ran when he saw the office he would be working in.

“Hey, hey!” A voice yelled from behind a stack of papers, and Shane stumbled back into an old bookshelf filled with old dolls in dusty, glass cases. A shorter man suddenly sprang up from behind the papers, rushing over to steady the bookcase. “Jesus Christ!”

“Sorry…” Shane said meekly, looking around the room. A projector was set up and what looked to be a picture of a dead cow was being displayed on the wall. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Just getting ready for the next case. You walked in on my slides, thought you were one of the guys from upstairs. They have a habit of interrupting my process.” He was smiling now, standing back from Shane with his hands in his pockets. “I’m Ryan Bergara, by the way, and you must be Dr. Madej. Welcome to my…” He gestured around the room, seemingly looking for a word to describe the small office covered with red string and pictures of what looked to be very blurry photos of people and flying saucers.

“Cave?” Shane offered, finding a spare space on a desk to set his box. “And you can call me Shane, most people do. What’s the case?” He pointed to the projection on the wall.

The grin Ryan gave, well, Shane should have known what he was in for right there. “Do you believe in aliens?”

Another bump in the road, and Shane was snapped back to reality, Ryan jamming out this time to Madonna. Of course he would like Madonna. Shane flicked the radio off.

“So what do we know for certain about the place we are heading?”

“For starters,” Ryan said after shooting Shane a slightly sour look, “this is the first event of its kind in this town. Most of the events from this point have been centered around Pine Bluffs, a tiny town on the very edge of Wyoming. However, this recent case happened all the way up north in Wapiti, and only 6 hours after the final event was reported in Pine Bluffs.”

“The norm?” Shane asked, taking the case file out of his bag. In it, the pictures from that first day back at the office were what he opened to. “Decapitated cattle, burned fields, angry farmers?” He snapped the file closed. “Sounds like the work of some really sick vandals.”

“Okay, ignoring the fact that there is no way someone could have driven from Pine Bluffs to Wapiti and carried this out, all in six hours,” Shane gave the other man a sideways glance at this, “the official position of the FBI is that these may be foreign intelligence signals that are the work of either the farmers themselves or some other operative in the town.”

“And you don’t buy that.”

“Not for one damn second, my friend.”

x

It had begun to rain once they got to the motel the FBI was willing to pay for, and Shane took the chance to unload his suitcase and laptop from the rental car. Ryan took his turn in the shower, and in those twenty minutes Shane set to documenting the events of that day.

“He calls it the X-files, and we call it crazy.” The man who had hired Shane said, shaking his head. “But, he’s one of our best damn agents, so he gets a bit of leash, for now. It’s a good starting place for someone like you, softball cases and a brilliant mind to work with. All we ask is that you write about your experiences and report back once the assignment is over. It’s more precautions than anything. You understand, Dr. Madej, we don’t need everyone worrying about the X-files, or about Mr. Bergara.” He smiled, “That’ll be your job.”

Shane set to typing, the rain on the window trickling in thin rivulets against the grey backdrop of Wyoming. The airport, the car, the theories. God, there were so many of them, Shane hardly knew where to start. He felt much like Stephen King in that moment, spinning stories of ghouls and little green men, come to terrorize the town. The cattle had been drained of much of their blood, and most were missing their heads, along with the grass around them. Ryan was convinced that the actions had taken place too quickly to be the work of any one human, and Shane agreed…that far.

 _The cuts are surgical_ , he wrote, typing out his own theory, _and the wounds have been cauterized, explaining the lack of blood at the scene. This could be the work of derelict veterinary or medical students, considering the medical knowledge a procedure of this magnitude would require._

He paused, hearing stirring from the bathroom, the shower turning off. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Ryan to know he was documenting, it was just he preferred the two to at least play amicable. Just get along with the guy for the next year, and then he was out.

_There is still no explanation for burns in the field, besides the want to cover any evidence or foot prints. However, this theory falters when the sporadic nature of the burns are considered. This once again leads me back to the theory that these are the work of delinquents, and not the work of a larger government scheme._

It wasn’t long before Ryan was out of the bathroom, fully clothed and throwing Shane his jacket. Shane had barely covered Ryan’s theory about vampires attacking the cattle when he spoke up, hair damped with from the shower and not the rain outside.

“We have dinner arrangements.”

x

It was a small cafe on the outskirts of town, if you could call where they were a town. Ryan was served greasy pancakes and Shane ordered a hot tea, warming himself up from the rain and giving his hands something to do. Somehow, even the tea was greasy in this joint. He sipped and looked around, Ryan nearly bouncing in his seat across from him.

“Local, huh?” Ryan chirped. Shane rolled his eyes.

“Are we going to get to sleep before the night is out? That drive took nearly all of my life force, and then some.”

“Who’s the mentor here?” Ryan raised an eyebrow and took a bite of his pancake, the smug bastard.

“You’re my age” Shane griped.

“Still your superior” Ryan grinned.

Shane could have worse, he mused. He could be back in med school with Dr. Walters and his fellow residents. Besides, what was one year of traveling the country with a kind of competent, kind of kooky FBI agent? This time next year, he could have his own lab, or his own assistant, free to work far beyond the reaches of the supernatural in the realm of science. The pay wasn’t half bad either, even for a doctor.

Eventually there was ting at the door, and Shane looked up to see an older man in overalls covered by a rain slicker. He took off his old trucker hat and looked around, seemingly scanning the place for something. Ryan waved.

“Shane, this is Allen Matthys, he’s the owner of the farm we’re going to tomorrow. Mr. Matthys, this is Agent Madej, the newest member to my team.” Shane reached out and shook the man’s hand; a firm, manly grasp that would have revealed his age if the lines around his eyes didn’t.

“How’re you?” This was all kind of wrong, and so many ways outside of protocol, all Shane could do was shake his head.

“And as you know, I’m Agent Bergara, I just wanted to interview you before we visited tomorrow with the local authorities.”

They all sat back down in the booth, Shane switching sides with his tea to sit next to Ryan. Matthys took off his rain slicker then too, making himself comfortable in the seat across from the pair, managing to look gruff even when soaked to the bone.

“So, what does the FBI want with my farm? I think enough has been taken from it; my revenue for the year is ruined. I can’t even plant in the field no more, and the other animals…”

“Were any other animals hurt?” Ryan asked, and luckily he didn’t bring out the case file, he’s not that stupid. However, Shane can tell he’s rattling the details off in his mind, trying to remember sentences about chickens or pigs or goats.

“Not hurt, no, but the damn things won’t come near me no more. They all run, or stand on the outskirts of the fence, just…staring. Like they’re expecting whatever hooligans who did this to come back for them. I swear, if you find out who did this, I’m taking them to court. Ruining a man’s livelihood, that’s despicable.”

Shane beat Ryan to the punch and smiled over his cup of tea, hoping to be reassuring to the man. “When we find who did this.” Ryan shifts, but doesn’t say anything. Shane is glad for that.

x

It’s when they leave that it first happens. They wrapped up their conversation with Matthys quickly and promised to visit him tomorrow as planned, which seemed to please the farmer, as well as Shane could tell. He grunted and stalked out of the diner, leaving Shane and Ryan to pack their things and leave.

It’s still pouring when they get out, and Ryan once again offers to drive. Shane lets him, hating driving at night, or driving stick in the year 1993. Weren’t they supposed to be phased out in the 80’s?

Ryan takes the same route back to the motel, even though Shane probably wouldn’t have noticed if they went a different way. The whole place is pine trees followed by more pine trees, punctuated by a splotch of farm land. It’s not like Washington DC, no lights to guide the way but the headlights in front of them, and Shane is happy he’s not driving in the downpour. Well, he begins to think that before what feels like a spell of vertigo hits him, and he reels in his seat. The world swirls around him for a brief second, and he hears the sound of car tires squealing underneath him; whatever was going on happened to Ryan too.

It’s a second and then it’s over, and Shane snaps his seatbelt off then leans over to Ryan, making sure he’s okay. Had they hit something? Was his partner awake, or was he still reeling? Ryan’s sat there, looking blank ahead to the dark road in front of them. The headlights are off, and somehow the car is stopped even with the key in the ignition. He looks stricken, his mouth hanging open, and then-

“Oh my god!! Shane! Did you-oh my god!!” The smaller man takes off his seatbelt too and jumps out of the car into the rain, whooping and cheering like a madman.

Shane takes a brief minute to let the scene soak in before he gets out too, forgetting about his jacket. “Ryan, what the fuck is going on?”

“Did you see it?” Ryan bounces up to him, drops of rain trickling down his face and neck, soaking the collar of his shirt. “Did you?”

“See what?”

“The-the clock! When we were driving and I checked the clock, it was 9:12. Now, check your watch. What time does it say?”

“Uh,” Shane looked down at his watch, wiping away the bits of water before reading the hands, “9:12? Wait…” He paused. The second hand didn’t move.

It was then that the car decided to turn back on, revving itself and the lights flashing on the pair. Ryan bounced back to the car, yelling “Hold that thought!” A second of fumbling into the car, and then, “9:18!”

“What?”

“It’s 9:18! We lost six minutes! Shane, do you know what this means?” Ryan came back towards him, and Shane almost felt bad for how soaked through his shirt was. Almost, the operative word. Shane was much more concerned about his own soaking wet dress shirt, which was sticking to his skin uncomfortably in the chilly Wyoming air.

“It means our car broke down on a creepy back road and my watch decided to get water in the gears. Shit, I really liked this watch.”

“So you’re telling me that the lost six minutes are…?”

“Look,” Shane rolled his eyes, beginning to head back to the car with Ryan behind him, “we broke down. For all we know the car clock is off, or we missed more time than we thought. Six minutes isn’t all that long, Bergara.”

“Those who come into contact with aliens-“

“Aliens? Again?” Shane wished he could act more surprised.

“Shut up. Those who have been in alien contact report lost time and electronic distortion. Shane, we didn’t just not notice six minutes going by, we lost it.” And all Shane could do was stare. Ryan had to be for real, the way he pleaded at him with his eyes wide, mouth set in a tight line with so much conviction it almost made Shane want to believe him. Almost. Too bad he went to medical school, right?

“Okay, Spooky, let’s get back to the motel, I think my toes are gonna fall off if we stay out here any longer.” Shane gave into the battle, letting Ryan believe what he wanted for then.

“Just-just one second. You can get in the car, I’ll be a minute.” And the shorter man began to walk away, towards the boot of the car.

Shane got into the car, waited through the odd rustling in the back and the sound of spray paint and, Oh God, he’s marking this for later, isn’t he? Ryan was back in no time, starting the car and enabling much needed heat to wash over him. “We’ll check this out later, okay?”

Shane let him believe that, too.

x

When the pair got back to the motel, Shane headed right for the shower to warm up. He shrugged off his dress shirt, now totally icy in the night air, and his pants and briefs quickly followed as he let the shower water warm. When the hot water finally hit his chilled skin, he felt the last reaches of the downpour leave his body. Shane was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

After that breath, it felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and Shane could finally think clearly, the fog of the rural town not clouding his mind. For one thing, the farmer, Matthys, was completely out of the loop. He at least expected the guy to have his own theories, but if he did, he kept mum. Ryan was no help, yelling about aliens at the first chance he got and seemingly not interested in the alternatives; Shane really was on his own.

There was the matter of who would want to do something like this, but not just who, how? How was one person, or a group of people, pulling off several cattle mutilations and farm burnings in the span of hours? The FBI was toying with the idea of leftover Cold War spy code, but Shane wasn’t too sure. What did headless cows and Soviet spies have in common? Unless…it wasn’t the cows they were paying attention to.

Shane finished his shower by rinsing the shampoo out of his hair and turning off the silver faucet. Luckily, the shower head had been just high enough for Shane that he didn’t have to hunch too much to wash, and he felt properly cleansed. Leaving the shower and toweling off, he slipped on a clean pair of sweats and an old track teeshirt to sleep in and headed out, leaving the door open for steam to seep into the room.

“Ryan?” Shane questioned, spotting his partner across the room. The other man was still in his work clothes, drenched and sitting on his bed. The sheets were soaked around him thanks to the downpour, and yet, Ryan didn’t seem to care. He just sat there, back to Shane, looking out the window.

“Hey,” Shane walked over, warmed hand meeting an icy shoulder, “what are you doing, man? You’re freezing.”

“Oh!” Ryan startled, turning to look at Shane, “I just…” A grimace, “What if whatever it was came back?”

“You mean what happened on the road? With the car?”

“Yeah.” And wow, he could really make himself look pitiful. He was even shivering now, the rat bastard. Shane wanted nothing more than to shake him, to tell him it was just a shitty rental car, the rain, anything that would get him to stop watching for lights in the sky. Shane couldn’t do that, though. At least, not then.

“Okay, well whatever is going on, I can’t have my partner freezing to death out here. The Bureau might think something’s up, and I’ll be out of a job. C’mon.” He lightly tugged on Ryan’s arm, and the shorter man allowed himself to be pulled up. There was a ring where he had been sitting on the bed, and now it was Shane’s turn to grimace.

“Get changed, you can sleep in my bed tonight. Sleeping in a damp cocoon isn’t exactly conductive to an investigation.”

Ryan paused in the middle of taking off his tie, looking over at his partner, “Wait, where will you sleep?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I-huh, hadn’t thought about that.” He chuckled a bit. “I could sleep on the floor? Or, hey, we’re both grown men who can be mature about sharing a bed, right? It’s the 90’s after all, everyone is doing it or…something.”

“Right.” Ryan smiled sardonically at this, shucking off his wet shirt and pulling on a dry one, much the same style as Shane’s. Shane turned around to allow him to finish changing, because apparently they weren’t that mature, and listened to the sound of the rain outside and the jingle of a belt.

“Just, I don’t know…” The sound of pants being pulled on was Shane’s signal, and he turned back to find Ryan settling in on the edge of his bed, “I know I sound crazy, but what if I’m not wrong? I want to believe, Shane, that my entire time at the Bureau hasn’t been for nothing.” The other man pauses again, and Shane sat next to him as he began to untie his dress shoes.

“We’re so close.” Conviction, and a lot of it. “We’re so close, and I can feel it. I’m not letting this one slip out of my hands.”

Shane takes a second, purses his lips and just watches Ryan slip off his socks. A year. He had a year with this guy, and parts of Shane wanted to believe too; wanted to believe in fairy tales and lights in the sky, in things bigger than himself. A year. He could give Ryan that, right?

“Look, man, I don’t believe in this stuff. You’re my partner, though, and hey, if by some fluke this is your big break, and we get proof of extraterrestrial life, I’ll back you up. But you have to back me up too, okay?”

Ryan nodded and looked like he was making a move to get up, but Shane put his hand on his shoulder, weighing him down. Ryan looked at him, and their eyes locked, “I’m serious. Whatever is going on, I don’t need you getting hurt. Promise me, you’ll look after yourself in the field. You’re my only backup out here.”

Ryan nodded, which was good enough for Shane. He moved his hand off his partner’s shoulder then, allowing the other man to rise from the bed. He watched as Ryan placed his shoes next to his suitcase, and Shane felt the smallest pluck of fondness for his spooky agent. He let himself smile a bit, just to himself; he really didn’t expect Ryan to keep his promise.

The rest of the night was standard after their conversation, and Shane was glad for it. The pair prepared for the night in relative silence, quickly climbing into a bed that was thankfully less soaked than Ryan’s was. Shane placed pillows between the two of them to give them some sort of buffer, and lucky for him Ryan was quick to pass out, legs sprawled in all directions. Shane fell asleep to the sound of soft breathing next to him, a sound he hadn’t fallen asleep to in quite some time.

x

There was someone outside.

He sat up in bed, the room still dark but illuminated from a bright light flooding through their window. In this light, Shane could see Ryan, still asleep next to him and none-the-wiser. It was silent, eerily silent, and yet Shane felt like something was watching him, like he was a bug in a glass jar.

Shane went to wake Ryan, or perhaps grab his gun off the nightstand, but there it was again, that damn vertigo. This time, it was more violent, and everything spun at a sickening pace. Shane felt the fog creeping back into his brain then, the corners of his vision becoming fuzzy until it wasn’t just the corners. He felt his now heavy head move back towards the bed, hit the pillows, and then…everything went black.

x

**Author's Note:**

> So if you enjoyed that, please, please comment and like. I'm a very busy college student who sometimes needs the extra motivation to work on things.
> 
> Thanks!


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